


A New Beginning

by VergerBloom



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Missing Scene, Neck Kissing, makeout scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26159143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VergerBloom/pseuds/VergerBloom
Summary: A missing scene taking place the morning after Baz and Simon's first kiss.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 5
Kudos: 94





	A New Beginning

I wake up an hour before Simon does. He’s curled up next to me where we fell asleep on the floor, legs tucked up behind him. I’ve done this before, watched him sleep; I used to do it obsessively at Watford, watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest, skin painted silver by the moon. It was only then, I think, that I could admit to myself how I really felt. That the well of rage and anger I felt masked some other feeling, a low ache of longing, a thing that terrified and thrilled me, made me feel like I was coming apart. It was easier to be angry. 

He opens an eye and squints up at me, a slow smile curling his mouth. “Watching me sleep, are you?”

I roll my eyes, a rose flush creeping up my cheeks. Which is ridiculous, really; we spent the better part of the night kissing. “I was thinking,” I reply quietly, which is half the truth, I suppose.

He presses up on his arms, closing the space between us. “Makes a change,” he snarks. I smack him gently on the arm. He grins. “What about?”

“Us,” I say, looking at him. He raises his eyebrows. “Us, you, this, “ I gesticulate with my hands, unsure what I’m trying to get at. “I mean, you _kissed me_ , Snow.”

“You kissed me back,” he interjects. 

“Yes, I did,” I sigh, still not sure how to articulate what I’m trying to say. Crowley, I’m still not entirely sure there is a way to express it; how do you explain something you barely understand yourself? I start again. “I mean, all these years, all the plots, the fights - I thought we’d end up killing each other. I’d let what I felt eat me up inside, and I was content with that, I think, for us to keep pushing and pushing until we both snapped.” I raise my eyebrows a little, perhaps shocked by my own honesty.

Simon nods gently like he understands, pushing his face a little closer to mine. “Which is what?”

I roll my eyes again, then look into his. “You know what.”

Snow grins, dimpling his cheeks and making his eyes shine. It’s strange, to be this close to him, to be allowed to look, and allow myself. I’ve never noticed the light green in the centre of his eyes, the colour of buds in spring, or the pattern of freckles on his cheek. I kiss them individually now, slowly, as though I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do it again. 

“So what happens now?” he says in a low, quiet voice.

Crowley, Simon, I don’t know; imminent death, magickal warfare. He’s started making patterns on my arm with the pad of his finger, trailing up and down the skin. It’s like being close to a hearth, being this close to Simon Snow, like his touch is warming me from the outside in. All of my thoughts, those troubling thoughts, disperse like smoke into air. 

I look up at him. “Breakfast.”

He grins, then slides closer to me, flicking his eyes to my lips. “One thing first.”

And then his mouth is on me again, pushing me down, pushing me back. I push my hands up and around his neck as he pushes up so that his body lies over me, parallel to mine. I hear myself sigh as he slides his hands over my ribs, then my waist, holding me there. I slide my fingers through his coarse hair, pulling him down closer still. I want to crush the space between us, to break it into a thousand pieces and let it settle on the floor. He’s doing that nice thing with his chin again, angling his mouth against mine. I feel the heat of his cheek against mine, and slide my hands up under his T-shirt, spreading my palms against his back. He sighs against my mouth, angling his body forward, pressing our chests together. His skin is so warm under my palms as I slide them back at forth, coming to rest at the top of his hips. I hook my thumbs into his belt loops, pulling him closer, and I feel his heartbeat quicken against my chest. So alive. _You are so alive, Simon Snow_. He kisses me deeply on the mouth, then pulls away gently, looking softly, almost shyly, into my eyes, before thumbing at the collar of my white shirt, pulling it back to expose some of my skin, which is paler than the cotton. Slowly, he pushes his face against my neck, making a slow pattern of kisses against the skin as though trying to draw something out of me. I sigh, thumbing my hands through his hair, before he lifts his head back to my mouth, kissing me slower now. I slide my arms back up to his neck, thumbing his jaw, and I feel him smile against my mouth. He pulls back a little, then presses a kiss to my cheek, before lying on top of my stomach, chin resting on my chest. I forget everything then, the Humdrum, Watford, my past. Time stands still; there is simply my breathing and his, slowing in its rapidity. I smooth a curl over his forehead. Neither of us speaks for a while, until he stirs a little, almost coming awake, and a lopsided grin curls his mouth. 

“What was that you were saying about my breakfast?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading - hope this brightened up your quarantine a bit :)


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